


The Masquerade Play of Life

by Avenger95



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gosho Boys, Hurt/Comfort, James Bond References, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Saguru/Kaito pairing, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Spies & Secret Agents, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-05-01 19:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenger95/pseuds/Avenger95
Summary: People know Hakuba Saguru as the son of the Superintendent-General, a high-school student playing a detective, trying to follow in his father’s footsteps. But what they don't know is that he's a victim of attempted murder, and that he also works for the MI6.It's not so easy to balance his life, however, considering an old 'serial killer' acquaintance has decided to come back to finish him off.





	1. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru stumbled upon a murder with too familiar modus operandi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I utterly adore Hakuba Saguru so this will probably be mainly about him (but the rest of Gosho Boys will definitely be there too.) 
> 
> Secondly, being teen detectives and having to see dead bodies on daily basis will definitely have some kind of impact on their mental health (that's what I think anyway). I don't know how anyone can still be okay after seeing something so gruesome (especially teenagers like them). 
> 
> I want to do portray PTSD as accurately as possible so any advice or feedback regarding will be much appreciated.

* * *

"You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it."

\--Alan Moore

* * *

 

“Made quite a name fer yerself, ‘aven’t you?”

Saguru Hakuba could feel his composure breaking the second he heard that familiar deep, smoky baritone. His first instinct was to protect himself but his body just wouldn’t move. He just stood there, frozen, even as the man shoved him into an alley.

He had been fourteen then—the last time something like this had happened—trying to solve a serial killing and prove himself capable to the Scotland Yard. Too eager to catch a murderer that had been running loose in London.

 

Red. Red. It’s red everywhere. He’s choking on his own blood. A dark-haired man was stabbing a boy barely even older than himself not far from where Saguru was lying in a pool of red. A loud siren. A manic look in that man’s eyes before he managed to escape.

“I’ll come back fer you.”

 

A hand on his shoulder.

“Get the fuck away from me!” Saguru swung at the murderer, wincing at the sudden pain on his side.

“Whoa, hey!” The murderer narrowly dodged. “What are you doing? It’s me!” Someone… was speaking to him in Japanese. “Snap out of it already, Hakuba!”

That wasn’t his voice. Saguru took a couple of steps back, blinking away the haziness. “Kuroba? Is that you?”

“Are you okay?”

“I was just in London. Am I in…London?” Saguru gripped his temple and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ah crap. Is this a panic attack?” Kuroba(?) muttered under his breath. “Why don’t you, uh… sit down for a bit?” Saguru flinched when he felt a touch on his shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry.” Kuroba(?) added quickly. “I’m just going to help you sit down, alright? Uh, take a deep breath, yeah? Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.” Saguru did just that. “Okay, great. You’re alright, Hakuba. You’re in Tokyo, not London.”

That’s right, he’s in Tokyo. He’d just came out of some nameless bar in Central Tokyo, trying to calm his nerves after stumbling upon a crime scene a few days ago. The victim’s injury, every detail of it had been similar, the exact same even, with that particular old case. That’s the reason why he’d been so shaken. Like a greenhorn. Getting nauseous over a dead body. Bloody pathetic, isn’t it?

“I’m alright now.” Saguru said, switching back to Japanese, trying to save whatever dignity he had left. Did he just suffer from a panic attack? In front of Kuroba, no less?

“Are you sure?” Kuroba looked at him with such concern in his eyes that Saguru had to look away. “You were, uh, pretty out of it.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Saguru said. “Why are you here?”

“Inspector Nakamori said you weren’t at Kid’s Heist earlier,” Kuroba replied. “That doesn’t seem like you at all.”

“I think I’m quite alright now.” Saguru pulled himself up and winced at the pain on his side. He frowned. Just when did he hurt himself?

Kuroba must had noticed because he stood up too. “So he did hurt you! It’s bleeding pretty bad.”

“He?”

“You don’t remember? I saw someone dragged you here. Thought he was going to mug you.”

“I told you I’d come fer you, didn’t I?” that man had whispered. Saguru had hoped that was nothing but his drunken hallucination. He didn’t even get a good look on the man’s face. That manic look in his eyes, Saguru hadn’t been able to erase that from his mind no matter how hard he had tried. But that voice he’d heard earlier. It the same deep, heavy voice from back then. With the same East London drawl. Dammit. Dammit.

“Hey, Hakuba!”

“Sorry,” Saguru shook his head. “I supposed I had too much of a drink earlier. Anyway, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

“Really?” Kuroba asked, dubious. “Looks pretty bad to me.”

It shouldn’t look bad at all considering he was wearing black button-up shirt but there was quite a bit of blood on his hand. Huh, the alcohol in his system must have helped numb the pain. “It’s nothing.”

“Like hell it is.” Kuroba snapped. “I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“No!” Saguru shook his head vehemently. “I can take care of it at home.” He sighed. “It’s not too bad, I assure you.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Saguru nodded, suddenly too tired to argue. Next to him, Kuroba stiffened and quickly snatched Saguru’s wrist, dragging him toward the main street. So, it wasn’t just his paranoia then, Kuroba must have felt it too.

Someone was watching them.

 

* * *

 

**_5 Days Earlier_ **

 

_At the very witching time of night on Hunter’s Moon,_

_I shall come to steal the Blue Diamond of Antweif from the Center Stage._

 

_—Kaitou KID_

 

_——————————_

 

“Now you’ve really done it, Kuroba.” Saguru suppressed an urge to smirk when he caught Kuroba— who was too immersed in a newspaper article covering KID’s latest successful heist—off guard for once. The idea of wiping that  _suspicious_ grin of Kuroba's face, well, Saguru just couldn't resist. After KID's last heist, let's say Saguru's still feeling a little bit petty. 

“What did I do now?” Kuroba said flatly. 

“KID sent another calling card,” _You sent another calling card_ , was what Saguru wanted to say. “If you know what’s best for you, you’ll cancel it.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times already. I’m not KID,” Kuroba rolled his eyes. “Why? What’s he’s stealing this time?”

“The Blue Diamond of Antweif,” Saguru pulled up his chair, the sound of it scraping against the tiled floor was drowned out by the noisy chatter in the classroom. “It’s—“

Aoko Nakamori plopped down next to Kuroba. “It's someone else's family heirloom! And to think he'd do it so soon after his last heist too!”

“I imagine he’s quite pressed for time,” Hakuba said. “ The Antweifs weren’t originally planning to stay in Japan more than a couple of days, after all. I bet KID thought this would extend their stay, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Aoko just don’t get people’s obsession with him! Dad was so angry they refused to cancel the Auction and even rescheduled it to accommodate KID. How are they so sure when KID's coming anyway?”

“They're English. His message this time has a lot to do with European folklore so it's not that hard to figure out,” Saguru said, glancing at Kuroba. “Hunter’s moon is what you call a full moon in October. Witching hour is between 3 AM to 4 AM, when paranormal forces is said to be strongest. Do I get that right?” 

“That makes sense,” Kuroba said, knowing he couldn't feign ignorance, not when he's been claiming himself as KID's biggest fan. 

“If KID’s smart, he’d back away this time. The gemstone is cursed.”

“You didn’t seem like someone who’d believe in those kind of things, Hakuba-san.”

Saguru felt blood rushing to his cheeks at that soft voice that could only belonged to one Akako Koizumi. What’s this sensation he kept feeling when she’s around? Something must be wrong because he hadn’t been able to feel anything for a long time. “The world’s a mysterious place, Koizumi-san. Who am I to say supernatural doesn’t exist?”

Bad things had always happened to outsiders who had gotten their hands on the Blue Diamond. The Antweifs knew that and they're still going to auction it off anyway. They knew it were going to be returned to them in the end after the new owners had some kind of accident. It's despicable what they're doing. And to think he's part of that family. 

“That’s… not like you at all, Hakuba.” Kuroba frowned, cutting whatever it is Akako was about to say. “And here I thought, science is everything to you.”

“Just so it happens, I'm superstitious as well,” Akako began, looking rather amused. “Hakuba-san, if you're free after school, how'd you like to hang out?”

Oh, was she asking him out on a date? _No, of course not._ He mentally scolded himself. People like the idea of him, the persona he crafted so carefully, not the real him. Akako just wanted to make Kuroba jealous.Yes, that’s probably it. And it worked, judging by Kuroba's less than pleased expression. Regardless, Akako's the only one that could make him feel something after all this time. And he’s just so, so tired of being numb. Saguru's about to say ' _yes, he'd be happy too'_  when Kuroba suddenly manoeuvred himself between them, blocking Saguru’s view of Akako. 

“Stop it already!” Kuroba said, rather harshly. “Besides, he’s going to be busy with rehearsal.”

“Re..hearsal?” Saguru repeated dubiously.

“For culture festival, duh,” Kaito said, flicking his gaze to Saguru. “Drama club wants to do a play. I convinced them you’d be the perfect Herlock Sholmes to my Arsène.”

“BaKaito! You can’t just decide that without asking Hakuba-san first.” Aoko said, hands on her hips. Kuroba said something back and just like that, they proceeded with their usual banter. Kuroba could be such an enigma sometimes. With the way he's constantly pulling on Aoko's pigtails, Saguru was convinced he's romantically attracted to her. Yet, he's acting like a jealous boyfriend who wouldn't allow Akako to hang out with a male friend. 

“Koizumi-san,” Saguru turned to face Akako. “I don’t have anything for today if you still want to go out later?”

“I’d like that,” she flashed him a warm smile. “And please, there's no need to be so formal. Call me Akako.”

“You can call me Saguru then.”

“Until later then, Saguru.” 

Kaito snapped his head toward him at that, before turning around to glare at Akako’s back. “This is your fault, Ahou-ko. You distracted me!”

Saguru sighed as they went back to their banter, but couldn’t help but smile a little bit at their interaction. The way they could act so free and open with each other, he envied them.

 

—

 

Saguru pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep along the base of his skull. The very moment school ended, just as Saguru was about to make his way to Akako, Kuroba had appeared in front of him out of nowhere and proceeded to drag him away, glaring at Akako, who simply rested her chin on her palm, an amused expression on her beautiful face. “Kuroba, you're acting like a clingy, jealous boyfriend."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kuroba said, trailing behind Saguru.

What, was Kuroba's worried Saguru's going to sneak away and see Akako? “I promise you I’m not going to snatch Akako away.”

“Ugh, enough about her already. I don’t like her like that. I don't like her at all. At. all,” Kuroba shuddered. “By the way, Hakuba, you don’t really believe in curses, do you?”

Considering Saguru's part of the family, no matter how distantly, yes, he actually did believe the gemstone's cursed. “Why? Are you worried you’re going to get cursed if you steal it?”

“This again. I keep telling you I’m not KID.” Kuroba sighed. “I’m just curious, is all. Akako's got a point, this time. You really don’t seem like the kind of person who’d believe in that kinda stuff.”

“I wouldn’t, normally,” Saguru said hesitantly. “I… know the Antweifs very well. Besides, there are records of all the previous owners. Every one of them died, Kuroba. Every single one of them. That's why the Antweifs decided to purchase it back.” Saguru eyed Kuroba carefully. “Humor me, Kuroba, since you claim to be KID’s biggest fan. Why does he keep returning all the jewels he stole? Saying it's not the one he's looking for?”

“What do you think? He's a magician,” Kuroba said. “It's all about putting on the greatest show.”

“I don’t think so,” Saguru said, glancing around. There's nobody except the two of them but Saguru decided to lower his voice regardless. “There’s a reason why all of his heists are during the full-moon, don’t you agree? I’ve seen him holding it to the moonlight. He’s looking for a specific gemstone. Something like the Mermaid’s Tears, perhaps? Cursed?”

“I wouldn’t know, Hakuba.” Kuroba replied smoothly. _He’s really good_ , Saguru thought. Kuroba didn’t look like he had any tells if not for the slightest change of his posture. Nonchalant, yet somehow defensive. Saguru wouldn't notice if he's not used to it himself.

“Just… be careful.” Saguru said, deciding not to push any further.

“I think something's happened,” Kuroba gestured to their right, where a lot of people seemed to be standing in front a police line. There were some familiar faces from the homicide department, Saguru noted. “Oh, come on,” Kuroba muttered under his breath as Saguru approached the two detectives who seemed to be in a serious discussion several civilians. Was that relief in his voice?  _Heh,_ Saguru felt the corner of his lips curling upwards. That was a rather smart distraction, wasn't it?

“Detective Sato and Detective Takagi,” Saguru started. “What’s going on?”

“Hakuba-kun,” Sato gestured him to the side, letting Takagi continue his questioning. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re just on our way home,” Saguru said. “What happened?”

“A high-school student’s been murdered,” Sato said, glancing backwards at where the victim was lying in a puddle of blood, covered with a white sheet. “The third victim in two months.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at the body?”

“By all means,” Sato nodded. She sent a friendly smile at Kuroba. “Is your friend here another aspiring detective as well?”

“Hardly,” Saguru said before Kuroba could open his mouth. “Although he sure has the brain if he wants to be one.”

“No thanks,” Kuroba said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “I’m looking forward to see you in action though, Hakuba.”

“Pity. Well, I won't be long,” Saguru said.

“Detective Mouri is here too,” Sato said. “Along with Edogawa-kun. You know him, right?”

“Yes,” Hakuba said, eyeing the boy who appeared to be in concentration. “He’s rather sharp for his age, isn’t he? Regardless, I don’t think it’s appropriate for a seven-year old to hang around a murder scene.”

“I don’t think Mouri-san’s too happy either. He probably snuck in the car when he wasn’t looking.”

“Will you run me through the details of the previous victims, Sato-san?”

“Sure,” she crossed her arms. “All victims are male high-school students, around 16-17. The cause of death is the same for all of them, exsanguination due to cut throat and multiple stab wounds on the chest and abdomen."

"What about the time of death?"

"Rigor Mortis has already occured but the body is still warm. He’s been dead for about 2-3 hours.” Sato-san explained, kneeling down next to the body and pulling the white sheet off the victim. Saguru felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of him. The victim's throat had been slit from ear to ear. There were blood everywhere. 

_Red. There was red everywhere. A boy was lying in a puddle of blood. His throat had been slashed from ear to ear. Cold, dead eyes staring at him. Saguru too, was lying in a puddle of red, choking on his own blood. Metallic taste in his mouth as he struggled to breathe. Hands on his neck, desperately to stop the bleeding. The sound of someone being stabbed. Over and over and over. Mad, blue eyes staring down at him with a sickening glee._

“Hakuba-niisan?”

Saguru recoiled violently, somehow managing to stop his hand from lashing out. It's just a boy who was standing in front of him. A boy wearing glasses. Too young. Too smart for his own good. He looked rather familiar. “Ah, Edogawa-kun. My apologies. When did you get here?”

"Are you alright? You look a bit pale.” Conan tilted his head slightly.

"Ah, yes, I'm fine."

"I tried calling your names several times." Conan motioned to where Kuroba was standing, no longer leaning on the wall. A frown marred his usually laid-back expression “I think your friend is getting worried.”

“It's nothing,” Saguru turned to Sato. “What else can you tell me about the victims?”

“They’re all delinquents,” Sato-san said reluctantly. 

“What happened to his ear?” Saguru asked quickly, pointing to the victim's torn ear cartilage.

Sato looked thoughtful. “Ah, yes. All of the victims have the same injury. It looks like whoever did this ripped them off of their ears.”

_No. No. This is impossible. This can't be happening._

“Hakuba-niisan,” Conan narrowed his eyes at him. "Do you know something?"

“He reminded me of someone I used to know,” Saguru said, leaving it at that. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Sato nodded. 

“I see.” Saguru absentmindedly rubbed his collarbone, glancing back toward Kuroba. “I should get going.” He said, earning a disbelief response from Conan. “Sato-san, do you think I could get a copy of this case file later?”

“Sure, I’ll prepare a copy for you.” Sato said after a while. “Whoever it is, they’re targeting high-school kids. Make sure you and your friend are careful, alright? Avoid going out unless it’s absolutely necessary, alright?”

Saguru nodded and made his way toward Kuroba, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from Conan’s too sharp, too watchful gaze.

“What happened earlier?” Kuroba asked, digging his feet in an attempt to pull them into a stop.

“Kuroba, something's come up. I don't think I'll be participating in that play, after all,” Saguru said. “Let's go get a cab.”

“A cab?" Kuroba looked at him like Saguru had lost his mind. "My house is 10 mins walk from here!”

“I don’t care,” Saguru snapped, gritting his teeth. “There’s a killer running loose killing high-school students. We’re getting a cab.” 

“Hey! Niisan,” a seven-year old kid pulled at Saguru’s pants. “Someone told me to give you this.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He knelt down and took the neatly folded paper from her grasp. “Who told you to give me this? Where is he?”

“Dunno!” The kid said, pigtails swinging side to side as she shook her head. “I didn’t see his face and I think he left already. He told me wait until you're done investigating.”

“What is it?” Kuroba said, leaning in to peek at the letter. It's scrawled in English, Saguru felt a chill down his spine, pulling it slightly away so that Kuroba wouldn’t be able to see. 

“It’s nothing,” he said, shoving it in his pocket in an attempt to hide his shaking hands. He squeezed it tightly so that Kuroba wouldn’t be able to steal it. Kuroba couldn’t know. Nobody could know about this. “It’s nothing.”

  

 

_I hope you haven’t forgotten about me just yet._

_I'd be offended if you have._

_I'm sure you know my work well enough, don’t you?_

 

_—R_


	2. We’re Not Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru's mask is slowly breaking under the pressure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purpose of this story, I'm making Saguru a couple of years older instead of his actual age, which is 17.

**_5 Days Earlier_ **

“You know I can’t answer any of your questions, so don’t waste your breath, Kuroba.” Saguru sighed, sensing Kuroba’s curiosity.

“How dangerous is this guy?” Kuroba was irritated, Saguru could tell. Understandable, considering he’d practically shoved Kuroba into a cab with him and offered no explanation as to why he’s acting so paranoid (asking the cab driver to do a short detour to go to a destination that’s supposed to be a 3-minute drive). “Don’t lie to me, Hakuba. You know who he is, don't you?” Kuroba crossed his arms. “And whoever he is, he spooked you.”

Saguru rubbed his forehead. “I’m flattered you think I’d be able to figure it out that quickly but I’m not that good.” Kuroba still looked like he wanted to press him for details, answers Saguru wasn’t willing to give. “Get out.”

“What?”

“You said earlier that your place’s 10 minutes away,” Saguru changed his tone, mentally scolding himself. He’s Saguru Hakuba, dammit. And Saguru Hakuba does not lose his temper. “We’re here now. And it took us exactly”—Saguru pulled out his pocket watch, a beautiful gold repoussé piece, and flipped it open—“10 minutes and 18.07 seconds.”

Kuroba frowned at the obvious dismissal. “Hakuba—“

Something buzzed in Saguru’s pocket. Dammit, he couldn’t answer this call with Kuroba right next to him. “I’m actually in a bit of a hurry.” Kuroba’s gaze flickered to the flip phone in Saguru’s grasp. The screen flashed on and off as it kept on buzzing. _PT_ , it said on the display.

“Whatever,” Kuroba shrugged, turning to open the door. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Don’t mention it,” Saguru absentmindedly said. He flipped the phone open only after he saw Kuroba entering his own home. He gestured for the cab driver to leave and gave his own address.

“ _Took you a while to pick up. Did I catch you in a bad time?_ ” said a man in English. He had a deep baritone voice that was more soothing than intimidating. Saguru instantly felt himself relax, blinking in surprise when he found his left hand were still in his pocket, clenched tightly around the scrap of paper he'd received earlier.

“I was with a friend earlier, sorry about that. Is everything alright?”

“ _We need to talk._ ”

“I’ll come by later today.”

“ _You do that._ ” Then he hung up.

 _This is just bloody brilliant_ , Saguru exhaled tiredly. Of course, Julian would have heard of it by now. Nothing could get past that guy. So, he’d probably going to lecture Saguru about his supposed idiocy and how he had been acting foolhardy. Actually, Julian might just decide to ship him back to London unless Saguru could convince him otherwise.

“We’re here,” the cab driver said.

“Oh, thanks.” Saguru handed him some cash and got out of the car, staring up at the window of the archive room. He needed to find something, anything to persuade Julian to let him stay in Japan. He needed to prove that it was done by the same perpetrator, the Ripper.

Saguru sighed. So much for thinking he'd be able to avoid digging through all the Modern Ripper case reports.

——

 _Saguru J. Hakuba_.

That was his name written on the victim’s list, right below Oliver R. Wright, who died because he happened to be with Saguru that night. And despite knowing there'd be pictures in those files, he still puked like some pathetic greenhorn. Which was how Baaya found him in the bathroom, crouched over the toilet, dry heaving.

“Botchama,” Baaya said rubbing circles on his back. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

She’d seen it then, the pictures scattered all over the desk. The pictures of Saguru’s extensive injuries. “I don’t have a choice. There’s been—” he choked, slumping back against the bathtub. “There’s been a murder.”

Confusion and worry marred her usually calm face. “But you don’t usually take murder cases. Especially since—“

“I have to, Baaya. It’s him. It’s him.” Saguru said, burying his face in his hands. He’d never been able to lie to her. She knew that and yet, all this years, not once had she taken advantage of it. “He told me he’d come back for me. He wanted my attention. That's why he killed all those boys. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have— I should have died that day.”

“Botchama!” She snapped.

“It’s true. If it wasn’t for me—”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything.” She interjected. “Even if you had died that day, there would still be other victims.”

“I have— no, I need to find him.” Saguru said, eyes flashing dangerously. “I’m going to make him pay for everything that he’s done. To me, to Ollie, to all those kids he’d hurt.”

“You’re going to kill him? Is that it?” Baaya asked, strangely composed. As if the idea of Saguru killing anyone was completely normal to her.

“Maybe that's all I'm good at. People keep dying around me.”

“I won’t have you talk about yourself like that, you hear me?” Baaya scolded him.

Saguru turned his face away. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew all the things that I’ve done.”

“But I do know.” Saguru stared at her. The light in her eyes dimmed a bit and her smile had turned sad as she said this. She's telling the truth. “I know what it is you really do and I still think you’re a good person. That's how I know you’ll do the right thing in the end. The way you always have.”

“Thank you, Baaya.” He said, stopping himself from hugging her at the last moment. He probably smelled like vomit after puking his gut out. “I’m feel so much better now.”

“Go take a shower, Botchama.”

“Heh.” He chuckled. “I’ll do that.”

——

For once, the sight of his scars didn’t bother him. The jagged line on the right side of his neck from when he tried to cut open Saguru’s neck. The multiple scars littered on his chest and abdomen from when Saguru was repeatedly stabbed. The fact that he even managed to survive at all was a miracle.

He splashed cold water on his face. “You need to convince Julian to let you stay here.” Saguru said, running his fingers through his hair. He’d better wear it slicked back this time, the way he always had in London. If he wanted Julian to take him seriously, Saguru couldn’t look like the seventeen-year old boy he’s pretending to be. He should wear something nice too since he needed to stop by the precinct to pick up some reports. A pair of dark pants, navy dress shirt and his usual dark suit jacket would probably do. Satisfied that he looked his own age, Saguru grabbed his gold pocket watch, the summary of case reports he’d prepared and headed to the police station.

Detective Takagi was the first person he saw the moment he stepped out of the elevator. Looking rather frazzled, with the way his tie was hanging loose around his collar and hair slightly messy. A cup of coffee in his hand. He’s taking a short break, Saguru concluded. Detective Takagi did look rather exhausted. “I requested a copy of the reports regarding the serial killing case from Detective Sato earlier?”

“Oh right,” Takagi said, walking toward his rather messy desk.

“Sorry to bother you when you’re busy with all these”—Saguru gestured toward all the papers on the desk— “paperworks.”

“It’s okay,” Takagi rubbed the back of his neck, handing Saguru the copies he requested. “I was just about to see Detective Mouri actually. He’s downstairs with Conan-kun.” He tilted his head slightly as if considering something. “Actually, want to come with? We could use all the help we can get.”

“Maybe some other time,” Saguru declined politely. “Do you happen to have another empty room I can borrow for a while? I’m meeting a friend of mine but it’s still a bit early to leave.”

“Oh yeah, sure. That room over there is free.” Takagi said. “Hakuba-kun, don’t stay out too late, alright?”

“Of course. Thank you, Takagi-san. And please do pass my thanks to Sato-san as well.” Saguru said, and made his way to the empty meeting room.

The police kept a rather comprehensive record of everything, Saguru thought as he flipped through the reports. There’s no autopsy report yet for the third victim but it seemed that Sato-san was right in her initial assumption. The cause of death would most likely the same as the previous two. The latest victim was a 16-year old high school student. No criminal record except for a reputation as a school delinquent. In fact, there’s nothing to warrant him being targeted by the Ripper at all. It's different this time. At least back then the victims had actual criminal records.

The Ripper had chosen his victims based on their astrological sign back then. Saguru had been… the sixth victim. If it’s the work of the same monster then most likely these kids were also killed in the order of their astrological sign as well.

Saguru skimmed the first victim’s file: Okuda Yusuke. 17 years old. Born on 17 April. An Aries, which was the first astrological sign of the Zodiac. The second victim file: Kurosawa Ryuichi. 18 years old. Born on 2 May. Which made him a Taurus. The last victim’s birthday was on the 23rd of May. A Gemini.

Saguru clenched his fists tightly. There would still be 2 others before him. Someone whose astrological signs were Cancer and Leo. Someone who was born around 21 June - 22 July and…

 _Kuroba._ It hit Saguru like a ton of bricks. Kuroba’s birthday was on the 21st of June. Saguru shoved the reports into the file jacket and swept everything into his bag in one urgent swoop. He had seen Saguru with Kuroba. It made sense for Kuroba to be his next target now. Saguru dialled Kuroba’s phone.

He picked up after the first ring.

“He—”

“Where are you?” Hakuba cut off whatever Kuroba was about to say. “Tell me you’re at home.”

“No, I—”

“Tell me where you are right now, dammit!” Saguru jerked the door open so hard that Takagi, who had his hand on the door handle, slammed into him.

“Sorry.”

“With Aoko and Inspector Nakamori at the police station, geez. What’s wrong, Hakuba?”

“Meet me at the lobby. Now. It’s urgent.”

“Wai—”

Saguru hung up and shoved his phone inside his pocket. He was slamming his palm onto the elevator button when he felt a tug on his sleeve. “I’m sorry, Edogawa-kun. I’m in a bit of hurry right now. I’ll talk to you some other time, alright?”

“No, wait.” Conan insisted. “I really need to talk to you.”

“Some other time.” He said, trying to look as apologetic as he could.

That was a lie, of course. Saguru had no intention of discussing this with Conan. As smart as the kid was, he’s still just a seven-year old boy. Saguru sent Takagi a grateful look as he distracted Conan long enough so that he could slip into the elevator, wincing inwardly at the determined look on Conan’s face.

Seemed like Saguru might just have to avoid the precinct lest he wanted to be interrogated by this boy.

—

“You look…different,” was the first thing Kuroba said the moment he saw Saguru, grinning mischievously. “Got a hot date?”

“Let’s go somewhere private, shall we?” Saguru grabbed Kuroba’s arm and dragged him to his car, tightening his grip around Kuroba’s wrist when Kuroba tried pull his arm away.

“What’s this all about?” Kuroba asked, before his expression turned cross. “If this is about your stupid theory about me being—”

“Kuroba, you're the killer’s next target.” Saguru shook his head lightly. “I’m actually pretty sure he’d target you specifically.”

“Why would—”

“I can’t tell you the details, but you need to trust me on this.” Saguru interrupted. “Promise me you won’t go wandering alone unless it's absolutely necessary. Just until I deal with him.”

“Hold—Hold on a second,” Kuroba sent him a confused look. “Deal with him? What does that even mean? And how did you even know this?”

“That’s not important,” Kuroba opened his mouth to object. “That’s not important. Just… be careful, alright? That’s it. That's all I wanted to say. You better go back now, I think the Inspector’s looking for you.”

Kuroba shook his head stubbornly. “You can't just say thing like that and not expect me to ask for some kind of explanation. How do I know this isn't some kind of trap? Is this some kind of elaborate plan to catch Kaitou Kid?”

“Dammit, Kuroba.” Saguru snapped, losing his temper. “I wouldn't lie about something like this. And he's not after Kid, he's after you.”

“I don't—”

“Fine, believe me or don't, it's up to you. Regardless, I need to go now, so if you could just—” he gestured for Kuroba to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“That's none of your business.” Saguru snapped, rubbing his temple in frustration.

Kuroba narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “There's something you're not telling me.”

Saguru scoffed. “We’re not friends. Why would I tell you anything?”

“Wow,” Kuroba said, looking a bit hurt. “Okay. I'll, uh, I better get back to Aoko. I still think you're just being paranoid by the way, but… whatever. Thanks, I guess.”

Saguru didn't reply, watching Kuroba until he's back inside the station with Inspector Nakamori and Aoko. As much as Saguru hated to admit it, he did consider Kuroba a friend.

Now that Saguru actually thought about it, Kuroba was the closest thing he had to a friend in Japan. And the idea of anyone hurting Kuroba… No, he'd never let that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a personalized soundtrack for every chapter. For this one it's Heaven by Majical Cloudz


	3. Spooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saguru never thought he’d be planning an assassination.

 

This, everything was all his fault. If only he'd just stayed home in England, things wouldn't have gotten this messy. “Pull yourself together,” Saguru scolded himself.

 

He opened the glove compartment, removing the package of Marlboros and tearing open the box. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. The feeling of nicotine rushing through his system calmed his nerves. He had almost forgotten about this, Saguru thought, regretting his decision to quit in the first place.

 

He felt a familiar buzz in his pocket. “I’ll be there in a moment,” Saguru said in English as he picked up the phone, knowing it'd be Julian.

 

_“I thought you quit smoking.”_

 

“I _did_ try,” Saguru corrected, rolling down the window. “It's my first one since I arrived in Tokyo.” The night breeze ruffled Saguru’s hair when he stuck out his head to look up. Julian was standing there, leaning against the balcony railing of his apartment.

 

_“Hurry up then,”_ Julian snapped, although without bite.

 

“Fine, geez,” Saguru sighed—regretfully crushing the cigarette into the ashtray—and stepped out of the car.

 

_“Hurry up,”_ Julian repeated, tone serious. _“We have a guest. You wouldn't want to keep her waiting now, would you?”_

 

“I understand,” Saguru replied as he made his way inside the building. This sounded serious. Hopefully enough for them to put Saguru back in active duty after forcing him to take unnecessary time off.

 

Time off, Saguru scoffed. More like a bloody suspension. Just because he hadn't taken a single day off in two years or had a tendency to overwork leading to occasional bouts of sleepless nights didn't mean he's obsessive. Saguru’s simply passionate about his job.

 

I don't need a time off, he thought, knocking on Julian’s door with more force than necessary, still a little bit angry at the memory.

 

“You trying to knock the bloody door down?”

 

Saguru blinked, eyes casting downward at the person who opened the door. It was a woman. Someone Saguru had sorely missed all the while he's here in Tokyo. He fought the urge to pull her into an embrace and decided to say instead, “Well, you're a sight for sore eyes.”

 

“It's good to see you too, Jackson,” She said, letting him in. “Japan’s been kind to you.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“You look good. Healthier.”

 

He’d like to think he’s doing rather well in London but apparently, nobody agreed with him. Huh. And no reaction at all from Adele apart from a cordial smile, Saguru observed carefully, a little bit disappointed. He wanted some sort of reaction. Anything to indicate that she missed him as much he did her.

 

“Where's Julian?”

 

“In here,” Julian called—just as Saguru stepped into the living room—seemingly distracted as his eyes scanned the myriad of papers scattered on the coffee table. Julian looked different, Saguru observed. Laxer without the usual three-piece suit Julian used to wear in London. He’s wearing a simple white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His hair wasn't even properly combed, it's a little bit messy. “Agent Gray,” Julian greeted. “Congratulations, you're officially back in active service.”

 

_Jackson Gray_ was the name Saguru had decided to take, the day he started working for the Secret Intelligence Service. Saguru didn't want to be associated with another country, let alone the Superintendent-General of the Tokyo MPD. It was a gesture of loyalty he'd offered to England, by giving up his real identity and his Japanese citizenship. The only reason he was in Japan as Saguru Hakuba instead of Jackson Gray was that the MI6 might need him to do some clandestine work. Or at least that's what Julian had said (possibly to placate him) back then.

 

“So you found him then.” It's the only reason Julian would bring Adele here. Saguru sat down next to Julian, eyeing the papers Julian seemed to be deeply engrossed in. A profile of someone named Anatoly Nikolaevich Sokolov. “Anatoly?”

 

Adele took the opposite couch to Saguru. “His real name is Marcus Finch,” she slid a photograph of Finch across the table. “You remember him, yes?”

 

“Of course,” Saguru said. “The man who defected 12 years ago and disappeared without a trace, along with the list of all our operatives and their posts.”

 

“He's been masquerading as a Russian jewel collector,” Julian said, nursing a glass of scotch. He didn't usually drink during debriefing like this but Saguru understood. This couldn't be easy for Julian considering he's one of the collateral damage from Marcus’ defection. “And he took the bait.”

 

Ah, so that's the reason why Saguru’s mother had been willing to auction off their family heirloom. No doubt they'd been compensated well for the trouble too.

 

“He’ll be here for the auction then?”

 

“Yes, our agent has confirmed it,” Julian offered him a glass of Chivas Royal Salute, which Saguru accepted gratefully. He immediately took a small sip. It burned pleasantly down his throat. It tasted smooth and sweet, with a hint of mint chocolate and heavy oak. Saguru always had a particular fondness for scotch.

 

“What do you need me to do?” Saguru asked, despite knowing the answer to that question.

 

“Take care of him and make it look like an accident,” Julian said, nursing his own drink. He turned and looked directly into Saguru’s eyes. “When this is over, I’ll talk to C about your request.”

 

“You're serious?” Saguru’s eyes widened in surprise. It's been a while since they last discussed Saguru’s intention to quit and join the police. If it could be called a discussion at all. Julian had flat out brushed Saguru off the second he mentioned his resignation.

 

“Don't get your hopes up,” Julian added.

 

“I doubt C would let you go that easily,” Adele crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch. “You know that right?”

 

Saguru would probably make a better Intelligence Officer anyway, even he knew that. He’s so good at pretending and getting into people’s mind that he could easily persuade civilians into becoming his agents. Then there's the fact that he's one of those kids who graduated early from Oxford. As well as his eidetic memory which was a tremendous asset in terms of information gathering.

 

He was what? 17 years old perhaps when the MI6 recruited him? When they used his history as a victim and his sense of justice? Well, he didn't stand a chance against the recruiter at all.

 

“I have to try,” Saguru said. “Even if he wouldn't let me go, I have to try.”

 

There was that look again in Julian’s eyes. As if Saguru had somehow disappointed him. Saguru hated that look, so he averted his gaze and changed the topic instead. “When will he leave? Anatoly?”

 

“Anato— no, Finch will be here until a week after the Auction,” Adele said, sliding other photographs of a young woman across the table. She bore a slight resemblance to Finch. Most likely his daughter then. Beautiful, Saguru thought. Although she seemed to be quite the party girl, judging from where all these pictures were taken. “His daughter, Nina will be coming with him. In fact, this whole trip and the jewel are meant to be her 18th birthday presents.”

 

Adele shook her head and muttered something under her breath. Saguru could have sworn her eyes flickered toward him for a brief second.

 

He almost rolled his eyes. Her reaction was the exact same as when she first saw his Maserati GranCabrio, Saguru’s 18th birthday present from his mother.

 

“He's a jeweler you said? He has to know it's cursed and he still wants to give it to his daughter?” Saguru asked, incredulous.

 

“Rich people, Jackson,” Adele cut in. “They're just so… Well, you of all people should know what they're like.”

 

“Oh, would you get off my back already,” Saguru bit back. Though she had mellowed tremendously, there had been a period when Adele despised him for being…born with a silver spoon. That, and also because Saguru was the reason her brother died in the first place.

 

“Kids,” Julian reprimanded.

 

“Sorry,” Adele shrugged, sounding not sorry at all and more like her usual self around him. She had been cordial toward him since they broke up. She hadn't even been nice when he first met her, for heaven’s sake. “My point is, I don't think he believes in that kind of stuff.”

 

“Something will happen, you'll see,” Saguru said. “His daughter will die and it'll make my job a lot easier.”

 

“You actually believe it's cursed.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You really think she'll die?” Julian asked.

 

“I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen someone died with my own two bloody eyes.”

 

And someone had died. Someone who had attempted to steal it. Broke her neck falling down the stairs. Saguru had been 6 years old then but he could never forget the sound of her neck breaking and the look of her empty, dead eyes. Saguru turned to Julian. “But if nothing happens, what do you want me to do with her?”

 

“Nothing,” Julian said, taking a sip of his scotch. “She's innocent, after all.”

 

“Of course.” Saguru said simply. But of course, that’s not true. Nobody was innocent. Everyone had a skeleton in their closet. Turning to Adele, Saguru asked, “What have you got for me?”

 

Adele’s eyes lit up as she brandished a black box. Inside was a brand new iPhone, a Glock 19 and a small transmitter. “The phone’s unhackable. It’s got my own personal firewall installed.” Adele leaned slightly forward. “Both of these have got your prints registered. Now this”—she pointed at the small transmitter—“is a bomb.”

 

“What?” Saguru said flatly. “Why wou—”

 

“Hear me out,” Adele interrupted. “It’s a radio-controlled IED and it can only be detonated with this phone here.”

 

“I don't think I'll be needing an explosive, love,” Saguru chuckled. “I prefer to be discreet.”

 

“Well then, don't kill him with this,” Adele rolled her eyes. “Use it to create a distraction.” At Saguru’s still dubious expression, she added. “I promise you it's safe. I triple-checked it myself. You'll need a passcode to detonate it.”

 

“Alright then,” Saguru accepted the small box, albeit still a little reluctant.

 

“Give me your phones, both of them.” Saguru did just that, watching as Adele plug them into her laptop. “It'll take a while.”

 

“I've got time,” Saguru gulped the rest of his scotch and proceeded to pour himself another glass. So his stay in Japan wouldn't be an issue. Yet, there's still another problem in Saguru’s plate. An old acquaintance of his. “Have you heard anything about the recent murders?”

 

“Yes,” The click-clacking of keyboard paused momentarily. Adele tucked a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. “You're thinking it's his work?” Her gaze flickered toward Julian momentarily.

 

“I'm certain of it,” Saguru said, digging through his pocket for the Ripper’s note. “He sent me a message.”

 

“So I see,” Julian took the note, face betraying no emotion at all. Not even a hint of surprise?

 

“You knew about this?” Because there could be only one explanation for his lack of reaction. Something churned in the pit of Saguru’s stomach. “You knew he’s here and you didn't think it's important to tell me?” He turned to glare at Adele. The click-clacking stop. “Did you know about this too? Well, did you?”

 

“Calm down, Jackson. And lower your voice,” Julian snapped. He snatched the glass from Saguru’s death grip.

 

“How could you _not_ tell me?”

 

“Because we only just found out ourselves,” Julian said sharply. “Your father reached out to the Scotland Yard requesting all Ripper files. I only knew because DCI Forrester told me and asked me to keep an eye on you.”

 

Saguru gritted his teeth. “Why?”

 

“He thinks the Ripper’s after you,” Adele answered. “That's why he also reached out to the Interpol.”

 

“So you're with the Interpol now?”

 

“No, she's still with us,” Julian answered, ignoring Saguru’s aggressive tone. “But that's her official cover and yours too.”

 

“Mine too?” Julian had lost his mind. He had too. “You really think I won't hurt him when I see him?”

 

“Will you?” Julian asked.

 

“I—” Saguru’s breath hitched and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was starting to blossom on the base of his skull. Would he, really? Would he hurt the man who made him suffer all these years? “No,” Saguru answered honestly, meeting Julian’s inquisitive stare. “I don't think I will. Not unless he tries to hurt any of us.”

 

Julian nodded, satisfied. “I trust you. We trust you.”

 

“So, why'd—” Saguru cleared his throat. “Why would my father reach out to the Scotland Yard?”

 

“Are you serious?” Adele stared at Saguru as if he’s an idiot. “You're _his_ son.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” He asked.

 

“Good god,” Adele sighed. “Jackson, he's _your_ father. You're _his_ son. This is personal for him.”

 

“He's the Superintendent-General of Tokyo MPD.” Saguru replied. “You really think he'd get involved in this case just because of some personal issue?”

 

“Of course he would. Someone’s going to kill you!” She snapped. “You can be so bloody dense sometimes, you know that?”

 

“If you say so.” Saguru frowned disbelievingly. His interaction with his father had been minimal at best, only a phone call every now and then. They weren't even that close.

 

“They've arranged a meeting for tomorrow,” Julian said. “The local police. I want you to go with Adele to debrief them.”

 

“Yeah.” Saguru said, glad for the change of topic. “Yeah, alright.”

 

“You need to go to your school first,” Adele added. “Tell them you're transferring back to England. It's time to end whatever game you're playing with your Arsène.”

 

“Yes, alright.” Saguru cursed inwardly. He'd almost forgotten about Kaito. He could be the Ripper’s next target. “Listen, there's this kid in my school. A classmate of some sort. He could be Delaney’s next target.”

 

“How certain are you?” Adele asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Saguru admitted. “Delaney might have seen him with me on more than one occasion. He's far from a delinquent but his birth date might make him a target.”

 

“This kid… he’s a friend of yours?”

 

“An _acquaintance_ ,” Saguru insisted. “I won't let him get hurt just because he hung out with me.”

 

“Tell the police tomorrow,” Adele said. “Let them put him under protective custody.”

 

Kaito Kid under protective custody? Now, that's a funny thought. It'd certainly be a hitch in his plan too. “I'll do that.”

 

“The Superintendent-General might be there,” Julian said. “Does he know? About you being in the MI6?”

 

“Of course not,” Saguru said, offended. “He thinks I'm a cop just like him.”

 

“This issue of yours, with your father, will this be a problem?”

 

“I don't know why you keep on assuming I have an issue with my father,” Saguru sighed. “He's a good man and I respect him but we don't talk much. We're not close, is all.”

 

“That's good then. So we're done here,” Julian said, getting up. “Oh, and you're not driving home tonight. We've rented the unit next door should you decide to move out. Think about it.”

 

“I don't need to,” Saguru said. “I'll take it.”

 

A squeeze on Saguru’s shoulder, then Julian went to his room while Adele moved to sit next to him. “Here,” she said, handing the phone back. “It's done.”

 

“Thank you,” he flashed her a small smile.

 

“You should talk to your father,” she said.

 

His smile faded. “Your advice has always been appreciated, love. _Thank you.”_

 

“Listen to me,” Adele insisted, pushing on his shoulder so Saguru would look at her. “You were friends with my brother, weren't you?”

 

Oliver. Saguru clenched his fists. “That has nothing to do with this.”

 

She grabbed the back of his neck so he wouldn't look away. “Did you know I hadn't talked to him in years? We had a fight and he refused to talk to me ever since. Then the next thing I knew he's dead.”

 

“Because of me.” His voice came out weaker than he intended.

 

“No, no.” she shook her head. “That's not the point I'm making. And also, it wasn't your fault.”

 

“I don't believe you.”

 

She ignored him. “If anything did happen to you, Jackson, it'll hurt your father. You said you don't hate him? Then try and talk to him.”

 

“You know what? I think I'll it call it a night. Why don't you give me the keys, yeah? I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Wait,” she said, running her fingers through her hair, making it messy. He fought the urge to smooth it away from her face. “Sorry, I wasn't trying to fight with you.”

 

“I don't want to fight either,” he sighed. “I’m just… tired, I suppose.”

 

She was silent for a moment. “I'm sorry.”

 

“For what?” Saguru frowned.

 

She bit her lip. “For hurting you. For the things I said back then. You know I don't really believe that, do you?”

 

“It's in the past. Don't worry about it anymore, okay?”

 

“I still shouldn't have said that.”

 

“It's okay.” It came out as a whisper this time, he didn't really trust his voice not to break.

 

Because it's not okay at all. Not really. And she knew it too, Saguru could tell from the way she's looking at him. Her eyes were sad.

 

It had been a silly fight then, but she was just so angry that she said it with so much contempt. _‘I wish it was you who died.’_

 

He could still hear it in the back of his mind, as clear as crystal. Whoever said it was right, some words just could never be forgotten.


End file.
